J.D. Nelson

the color of the comma

the clam shuffles the deck of business cards
a box of the same carousel juice

the secret sponge is a mirror of the cloud
speak to me when there is no dentist

when I am the laughing hand
when I am a peach of the standing warmth

police socks in the world while crumping a viola
we can see the forest of the james and that complete wolf

eek a math at it
the effort of the law in the weird salt and that was it

waiting for that crunch of the scotch ticket
drick litmus dropping drowse

that dracking house was a color of the three toes
to rose white a smaller wing

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